


The Freeloader

by TheTravelerWrites



Series: Commissions [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Exophilia, F/M, Reader Insert, Satyr, Sheep Satyr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22357591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTravelerWrites/pseuds/TheTravelerWrites
Summary: A gift for @shekissesturians! A woman with a sheep ranch encounters a creature who wants to take advantage of the "free room and board."
Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr
Series: Commissions [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1236809
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	The Freeloader

It was the panpipes that tipped you off.

You owned a sheep farm on the outskirts of a small town. You supplied the local craft shop with wool for spinning and stuffing and felting, doing much of the work by yourself. You had roughly ten sheep or so in various colors; more than that and you would have had to hire on a farmhand, and you didn’t think you could afford that.

It was shearing season, and you had Maxine in your lap, shearing the last little bit near her neck, when you heard the sound of pipes playing. You looked up with a start, shooing Maxine off you and throwing the tarp over the wool so that the wind didn’t blow any of it away. Maxine scuttled off to join the flock, and you noticed a fluffy white butt behind the apple tree.

Weird. You’d thought you’d sheared all your fluffy butts. You counted and, sure enough, there were eleven butts, ten sheared ones and one still-fluffy one at the far end of the pasture. Confused, you got up and walked out to see this new fellow.

“Hey, you,” You called. “How did you get over the fence? What are you doing in here, eh?”

The pipe music stopped. “The apples,” A voice replied, smooth and deep. “They’re delicious. I couldn’t help myself. And who could say no to dinner and a song?”

The voice made you stop in your tracks. “Who are you? Come out here! You’re trespassing.”

The butt emerged, attached to the upper body of a young man, handsome and smiling. His body and hair was as white as the wool on his legs, and his eyes were a piercing blue. The top of his curling brown horns just reached the middle of your chest.

“Well, hello,” He said, taking on a sultry tone, looking you up and down. “I didn’t realize the owner of this bed and breakfast was so attractive.”

“This isn’t a bed and breakfast!” You replied, a little annoyed.

“Isn’t it?” He waved a hand at the sheep.

“This is a farm,” You retorted, your hands on your hips. “And you’re not an animal. So get out of here.”

“Actually, I... um…” He suddenly sounded a little embarrassed. “I could use some help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Well…” He turned and showed you the left side of his rump, which he had been hiding, and revealed that the wool on that side was covered in thick, goopy black paint. “It won’t wash out. I’ve tried. I saw you shearing the sheep when I was walking down the road and thought you might give me a hand.”

“Oh,” You said, your tone changing. “Yeah, of course. Come with me toward the house, I’ll get the shears.”

“Many thanks,” He said. “My name is Calixtus, but my friends call me Cal.”

“So, which should I call you, then?”

“That’s totally up to you, darling,” He said, a smirk in his voice.

“Hey now,” You said sternly. “I’m just doing you a favor. Don’t get comfortable.”

“Anything you say,” He said.

Back at the house, you asked him to step up onto the shearing platform you’d built to be easier on your back, and he obliged.

“Do you want me to just get the paint out, or a full shear?” You asked him.

“Hmm…” He hummed, thinking. “I haven’t been nude since I was a babe. How about full service?” He grinned.

You made a sour face at him that said you were rather unimpressed with his antics. “Just stand still.”

“Watch the bits, lass,” He said, chuckling.

You rolled your eyes and got to work, starting at his waist, were the wool began to sprout from his smooth skin, and sheared down in gentle streaks.

“How did this happen, anyway?” You asked him. “This is a lot of paint.”

“Wooed the wrong lady,” He replied jovially. “Wasn’t fond of satyrs, apparently. It happens from time to time. Though I think this was a little uncalled for.”

You snorted. “I doubt that.”

“Come now, you barely know me,” He said, feigning offense.

“Yeah, and in the twenty minutes I’ve known you, you’ve hit on me at least six times.”

“Only six?” He chuckled. “I’m slipping.”

You scoff. “You know, guys like you are why satyrs have a bad reputation.”

“I do have redeeming qualities,” He said.

“Like what?”

“You need those sheep in their pen for the night, eh?”

“Well, yeah,” You said, confused.

He turned his upper half and whistled sharply. “Fall in, lads!” He shouted. To your immense surprise, all of the sheep formed a line in the yard.

“To bed, then!”

One by one, the sheep walked into the pen, no muss, no fuss. Cal raised his arm and made a motion with his fingers, and the gate of the pen closed and latched itself. He turned back to you with a smug look on his face.

Your jaw dropped and your head rocked back. “I’m not going to lie, that was really impressive.”

“See? I’m useful. I’m a really good cook, too. Let me make you dinner, to thank you for taking pity on this poor stranger.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and he smiled back innocently, showing all of his pearly teeth.

“Fine,” You said. “But you be on your best behavior, you got me?”

“I’ll be as pure as fallen snow,” He assured you, his hands up in assent. “I’ll only make passes at you during dessert.”

You shook your head and led him inside.

After telling you he did feel rather naked without his wool, you found a skirt for him to wear that both covered him and complimented his skin--he was rather partial to the floral print--he made you a sumptuous dinner. When he wasn’t trying to hit on you, he was actually a sparkling conversationalist and had a lot of interesting stories. Despite yourself, you found him rather engaging and even rather attractive.

Now you were wondering if he might like to stay the night, being as late as it was. So much for not being a bed and breakfast. Maybe it could be a home instead.


End file.
